Stavanger Bay i'm a gambling man, pol

There was a scream of his name — or rather two syllables of his name — and startled he whipped around, his hackles bristling even as he recognized the voice of Chusi. He did not immediately register the scream as a happy thing despite that he could not particularly detect any sort of fear in the sound. Not until he heard the happy giggle that followed as he watched the child barreling towards him across the sand, her movements made slightly sluggish by the effort of running through the sand which constantly shifted underfoot. Relief flooded him a second later and his body visibly relaxed when he realized that she was not in any danger. It would seem that his overwhelming paternal instincts made him easily jumpy and unnecessarily protective when it came to the young. Did that mean he was out of practice? Was that something he would ever be out of practice for? No, no. They might have feigned dormancy when his children no longer needed him but they were still active. The ease in which he felt them for Chusi and Qilaq was proof enough of that.

He saw the ear to ear grin upon her muzzle and something warm burst within his chest, blossoming and spreading through him. A sense of pure joy that only children could bring to the gangster. Children were both his redemption arch and his Achilles heel but there wasn't anything the Ceannasach loved more than being a father. “Hello Chusi,” Arturo greeted her, bemused when the child nuzzled against his leg. “I-I think you've grown!” He feigned astonishment but he could tell that she had grown since the last he'd seen her. He remembered from his own children that they'd reached a stage where they grew rapidly. In what felt then like it'd only been a lazy blink of his eyes and they were their adult sizes. “Let me look at you,” He put a small distance between them, ducking his head down to her so he could 'hmm' as he made a show of studying her. Secretly, he checked to make sure that she was unharmed. It wasn't that he didn't trust the Donnelaith wolves it was just that he was a father and though he was not Chusi's this appeared to make no difference.

“Aha, mhm, just as I suspected,” The gangster grinned down at the girl when he was satisfied that she seemed in tip-top shape and good health. “You have grown.” He let out a soft chuckle, smiling warmly at her. “How have you been Chusi?” How has your lovely lady bard friend been? though he did not give voice to the second question, not wanting to divulge so forwardly that he fancied the scarfed Donnelaith woman and because he wished to focus upon Chusi.